Yesterday's session did not go as planned, but then again, we don't plan what the unconscious does.

The first part of the session was okay. I talked about some issues with H.

Of course the conversation ended up turning to my Dad. After that, I remember almost nothing T said, except for the end of the session when he was telling me to look at him, focus on certain things in the office, and feel the ground underneath me.

I remember there was one point in which he said, "I want to tell you something." And he talked for awhile and then right after I told him, "I don't know what you just said." I still cannot remember it at all.

I do remember what happened to me though. I can recall what I was saying. I entered a different "place" in which I created it so that my dad was still alive. I began to talk about him in the present tense. I told T that I was going to call my dad this weekend and if he doesn't answer his phone, that's okay because he's probably just in the car on the way to visit my aunt, and he never answers the phone while he's driving. Cognitively, I knew at this time, that he is gone.. but my conscious mind was not the part doing the thinking... so the feeling was such that he was alive, and a sense of calm had come over me.

When the session was over, I left in a daze. I could not drive to school, so I just sat in my car (I may have fallen a sleep for a bit). T knew I would be sitting there so he came out to see how I was doing. I told him that I was stuck in a "middle place" now where I hadn't entirely come out of what had been going on in his office, and I was very confused as to whether to feel that my dad was dead or alive. T said that I had gone to this "place" in an attempt to not feel the pain.

I went to school and sat in class pretty much in the same fog. After class, I thought about what the session was like, and realized that for most of it, I had no awareness that someone was in the room with me. I had no awareness of Ts presence; it was virtually as though I was alone. And it disturbed me so much that it was like that. It disturbed me so much that I couldn't remember anything he said.

I left him a message on my way home from school telling him this. He called back in ten minutes, which has never happened. I asked him what the hell happened and he said that as soon as the conversation had turned to my dad I began to go "in and out." He told me again, that I was in a state in which I was avoiding the pain. I told T, "I would rather be with you, in pain, than locked up inside myself without you there." He was so gentle on the phone and did his whole thing where he names significant things that are in his office so that I can visualize them and try get the safe feeling of being in his office when I am grounded and we are together. He told me that I have lost so many things with the loss of my dad. He is exactly right.

I'm really wearing down. Gosh, how my life has changed in two and a half months. You go out to get a cup of coffee, get a phone call in the parking lot, and your life has changed in that instant. There are two seconds within that time that exist-- the second when your life was your "old" life; the second your life was the way it always had been-- and then the very next second when it changes forever.

Oh, on a funny note-- at the end of my phone call with T, he said, "When you get home, make sure you really focus on feeling the ground underneath your feet." I said to him, "Yes, that's fine, but my head still feels detached." T said, "Well, we will work from the bottom up. Don't stand on your head."

I do love him.